Immediately after entering the bay in Luperon we were approached by the local “patrol”, Handy Andy and Papo, who informed us that they were the ones to contact if we needed anything at all. My radar went off as soon as he started to talk. This guy saw dollar signs. Anyone the flying the red white and blue are wearing a target in the form of the almighty dollar. So we said thank you and good bye. However, about five minutes later, in the middle of our second attempt at anchoring, Handy Andy appears with officials in his boat who have come to board Adamo. The Comandante, dressed in army green from head to toe, and his assistant sat in the cockpit after introductions from Handy Andy who was our translator. The assistant took our papers and passports and recorded the official numbers, then we were informed that this does not cost anything BUT it is customary to give the Comandante a gift. So having been told by friends earlier, we gave him the necessary five dollars. We were then required to go to the immigration office in town. It took us awhile to get settled and the stress level had mounted so we cracked open a beer and then dropped the dinghy into the water. The immigration office is at the end of a pier with a gate at the end guarded by several men in lawn chairs. The trailer had no air conditioning and it was very hot as we were crammed into a tiny office with the door closed. The Comandante examined our papers and passports like he had never seen them before. Remember he does not speak English. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he stamped our passports after we paid him $53.00. Thinking we were all set we stepped out into the fresh air only to be approached by the Agriculture guy who informed us in English that he and another guy wanted to board the boat to check out our meat and cheese, and our vegetables and fruit. Since the navy in the D.R. has no boat Mike shuttled them to the Adamo where they looked at our food. Mike paid them the required $10 each. Meanwhile, Doug, Phil, and I, waited in another tiny office that had air conditioning. Gladys another agriculture person tried to speak to us in Spanish with Doug trying to translate. Now to give you an idea of what the offices looked like, imagine the oldest trailer from long ago, sparse furnishing, a desk, some plastic chairs and no clutter. That was it. Next we were told to come back the next day to get tourist cards for $10 each. This was eventually accomplished 3 days later, and we also had to show papers again and pay $10 to another official who had missed out the day before. When we went to get the despacho, exiting papers required for the next port, they hit Mike up for another $15. It is all corrupt, if someone works on your boat, you have to pay the Comandante….
The town of Luperon is small and very poor. There is running sewage in the street and goats, lambs, and chickens running around the middle of town. The odor in some areas is pungent, I won’t go into detail where bathrooms are concerned. However, the people are very friendly. In the evening the town comes to life, music is played loud and children are out playing. Everyone is out and about; all doors are open and candles light the houses that don’t have generators because the government turns of the electricity at night. They only get power for a few hours each day and it is random. Gladys from the agriculture office invited us to her restaurant for lunch. We met her husband, Pablo and her five children. Lunch was great, but communication was strained because of the language barrier.
We managed with our Spanish/English dictionary. We also met a local 22 year old, Eddie, who spoke fantastic English. 
He explained that one in ten people are lucky enough to have a job. They make about $150 a month. His parents own a restaurant/bar with pool tables where the locals gather. There are various businesses owned by foreigners that cater to the cruising community. Many cruisers make this a home base and live here year round. I haven’t figured out why this is so when the bay is full of the runoff from town. Yuk! I was in a hurry to move on.
We got our weather window and left the Luperon Bay at six in the evening. We had nice wind and the ocean was manageable. The moon was bright so visibility was great. We sailed to Samana which normally takes several trips, but we were able to do it in one overnight. It is all about the weather. Meanwhile the PP’s were still in Luperon because their weather guru, CP, had not given the okay for a smooth passage. They missed a beautiful sail. We arrived at sunset in the anchorage and hooked up to a mooring ball. Elvina, Loon, and Moody Blue were also here. Once again, we were approached by the local “patrol”, this time it was Joe who brought the local officials to board our boat. We only had to gift him 100 pesos about $3.
The town of Samana is built on a mountainside. The houses are painted in pastel colors. The bay and beaches here are very beautiful. There are palm trees and evergreens covering the mountains. Tourism is big here and there are several resorts along the coast.
The town of Luperon is small and very poor. There is running sewage in the street and goats, lambs, and chickens running around the middle of town. The odor in some areas is pungent, I won’t go into detail where bathrooms are concerned. However, the people are very friendly. In the evening the town comes to life, music is played loud and children are out playing. Everyone is out and about; all doors are open and candles light the houses that don’t have generators because the government turns of the electricity at night. They only get power for a few hours each day and it is random. Gladys from the agriculture office invited us to her restaurant for lunch. We met her husband, Pablo and her five children. Lunch was great, but communication was strained because of the language barrier.
He explained that one in ten people are lucky enough to have a job. They make about $150 a month. His parents own a restaurant/bar with pool tables where the locals gather. There are various businesses owned by foreigners that cater to the cruising community. Many cruisers make this a home base and live here year round. I haven’t figured out why this is so when the bay is full of the runoff from town. Yuk! I was in a hurry to move on. 